Remus Lupin Had A Problem
by ivyflightislistening
Summary: Set during GoF: It is Sirius' first Christmas out of Azkaban, and Remus wants to make it special for both him and Harry. He decides on gathering good memories to show to the pair in a pensieve-good things to keep the bad at bay. Action, humor, try it out!
1. Firsts

**First ever Harry Potter fanfiction! I'm not really sure what else to start out with than that, but I hope you like this first chapter. Hopefully the future ones will be a bit of an easier read… This takes place in GoF, so I pretty much re-wrote the Christmas scene there. Sorry if you don't like it when people edit the actual books like that, but otherwise the story wouldn't fit. Basically, Remus Lupin is staying at the Burrow and is trying to figure out what to get Harry and Sirius for Christmas. He wants to make it special, he hasn't had a Christmas with his friend in twelve years, and he thinks Harry deserves it. He thinks up the idea to give them memories, collecting them from various family friends about the warm moments in the past, mainly featuring the Marauders. Some will be corny, bittersweet, funny, etc. They remind Sirius of what he lost in Azkaban and Harry what he never knew.**

**Give it a try and review? Tell me if I should stick to Maximum Ride fanfictions or another chapter? Well, I'll probably add another chapter if you want it or not, but I like it when people like what I write. So, anyway, if you have stuck through this obnoxiously long author's note… Chapter One!**

Remus Lupin had a problem.

He noticed this with a hint of a smile. No, it was a bit more than his monthly 'furry little problem.' Honestly, if he was straight with himself, it was of greater importance to him than the other. Unfortunately, there were about twelve full moons in the year, depending on the leap years, but those were only important to Lupin. Christmas, on the other hand, only came once a year, and Remus adored Christmas. He no longer spent it at his either his mother's house or James', he no longer tried his hand (and failed) at Quidditch on Christmas morning. And yet, he thought to himself as he heard Sirius rasping loudly about merry hippogriffs, some things hadn't changed. Granted, when Sirius used to sing the carols, he actually did a fine job at it, even though neither he nor his friends had mentioned it. It still hurt Remus that his best friend's voice would never be completely restored.

He would have cursed snivelly little Peter to Kingdom Come if it hadn't been for Ginny, Harry, Hermione and Fred playing Exploding Snap at the other end of the dinner table. Granted, he was still earning some foul looks from Molly Weasley as he sliced a rather large chunk of bread in a form that made it look like he had torn it with his teeth.

Back to the matter at hand, he reminded himself. The more important things. Although Christmas had always been one of Remus' favorite holidays, this was a special one. It was his first Christmas with his best friend in twelve years. The first Christmas that Harry would have with actual relatives, and it was an unspoken consent that Sirius was more related to the boy than the Dursleys were. Harry and Sirius already got along famously, even though they had technically only known each other for six months. Although not all the Weasley's could attend, everyone but Percy had managed to wrangle it in to their schedule. It seemed to Remus, a Christmas of miracles.

_Sentimental old fool. _He laughed at himself, using the exact words Sirius or James would have used had they heard Remus' thoughts. Granted, there had been a bit of a tense atmosphere for a week or two at the Burrow. It was a small house, cramped with the usual seven people living there. However, Mr. Weasley had insisted upon Sirius coming, and they all had nearly forced Remus and Tonks to join in.

_Honestly, _Remus reminded himself. _It was ol' Padfoot who caused the most trouble. As per usual._. Dumbledore had told Mr. Weasley about Sirius' rather… confusing story, and Mr. Weasley was immediately welcome to the gaunt man. Mrs. Weasley had taken a bit more persuasion, but she had finally agreed and decided to introduce "the kids." Ron had been immensely pleased with himself that he already knew, and the twins had insisted that his head had inflated some a few days prior to their meeting Sirius. Remus was almost glad Percy hadn't been able to attend; he was one less person that Sirius had to open up to. To Sirius, it was just one more person who could send him back to Azkaban.

Well, Harry had written, and he had agreed somewhat cautiously, then arrived at the Burrow a day after Harry with some flowers from what must have been a very warm climate, with the petals looking like bird of paradise. He was still gaunt, still sickly thin with waxy skin and sunken in eyes, but those eyes now glittered with warmth and he had showered and bought new robes so as to make the right impression on the Weasleys.

Remus had teased him endlessly about the flowers. What a sap. Granted, even with his tattoos and haunted appearance, the whole 'hunted criminal' aspect had gone over well. Then he had found that Fred and George had stumbled upon the Marauders Map in first year, and explained that he had helped make it ("Well, it was mostly Moony. He's always been the smart one, but James and I helped with the counter jinxes.") Needless to say, the twins had taken immediately to him.

But what to get him for Christmas?

"Hermione, your eyebrow is on fire." Remus looked up with a grin, Sirius had strode into the room just as the tower of cards exploded, landing a few ashes into the cooking soup.

She muttered a quick incantation under her breath with her wand pointed at her face, then nodded with a smile at Sirius. It was Christmas Eve. Even when her eyebrow was on fire she found it hard to be irritated.

"Well," Fred stood; stretching while Ginny wiped the spare ashes into the trash bin. "Who's up for a game of Quidditch?"

Harry and Ginny jumped to their feet, then glanced at Molly Weasley as she paused in her cooking endeavors.

"Fine." She muttered darkly, trying not to let their hopeful faces suck her sympathies too much. "But make it quick, dinner will be in an hour. And find Ron, he'll want to play, and don't let Charlie break anything!"

They had scurried out of the room quickly, and shouts could already be heard about who would be stuck as keeper.

"Brooms not suit you, Hermione?" Sirius asked, watching the swinging door with a trace of longing. Remus understood how he felt, hardly thirty-five years old and already an escaped convict. The ugly black stain on his wrist proved that.

AZK: 0039140

"Neither do hippogriffs." She laughed, earning a grin from Sirius. "I'm just glad the boys love them because otherwise I would never know what to get them for Christmas… they don't seem to enjoy books as much as I do."

"I can sympathize." Remus muttered, to everyone's amusement.

"It saves me loads of trouble," she continued. "Broom care kits, _Quidditch Through the Ages, _new gloves… though onetime I got Harry scar cover-up as a joke."

"That's excellent." Sirius barked a laugh.

Remus shook his head, grinning. "What'd he get you?"

"A hair straightener." She glanced up from her book (pulled from her pocket, Remus wondered how she managed to walk around with such a large thing) and saw their bemused faces. "It's a muggle thing, for girls who want curly hair straight. Needless to say, at Hogwarts it malfunctioned and 'straightened' Lavender Brown's potions essay. Professor Snape wasn't pleased."

"Harry probably should have given it to old Snivellus." Sirius chuckled. "Or maybe just some shampoo, he could work with that."

"Face cleanser." The werewolf abandoned the slightly mutilated bread and went to sit aside his friend, unabashed.

"Nail clippers."

"Colored robes."

"_Pink _robes."

"Boys," Mrs. Weasley cautioned, turning Celestina Warbeck's warbling radio special down ever so slightly. "I think Hermione has enough influence without you two."

"She's probably right." Hermoine murmured just low enough for only the two men to hear. "But at least neither of you nearly fed me to a three headed dog."

Remus, even knowing what he did of three headed dogs, cracked a smile at this. "Dumbledore told me about that."

Sirius straightened up, leaning closer to Hermione while casting cautious looks at Molly Weasley's turned back. "Harry and Ron? You're joking."

"First year." She whispered. "I hated them. They kept losing Gryffindor points, so I followed them one time. We were getting chased by Filch-yes, he's still there, as is Mrs. Norris-and we escaped into the third floor. Hagrid's three headed dog, Fluffy, was guarding the sorcerer's stone, but of course we didn't know that yet, all I knew was that I wanted to kill them, then devise a spell to bring them back to life and kill them again."

This excited Sirius so much, that his godson hadn't followed in the lines of his mother (despite what he had learned last June), that he insisted upon the entire story, and then telling Hermione about some of the things he, Remus, James and Pettigrew had gotten up to.

"Granted, no three headed dogs," he shook his head, as if ashamed with himself. "Depressing, isn't it?"

"Yeah, because monthly forays with werewolves aren't enough." Remus intoned scathingly. "Must have been so… how shall I put it, dull? Boring?"

Black grinned, glancing at his friend. "Comparable to one of Binns' essays?"

"Ah," the other man rolled his eyes. "Just what I was looking for."

"What's comparable to one of Binns' essays?" Harry, followed closely by a pack of redheads entered the crowded kitchen through the back door. All had pink noses and cheeks, bitten with cold, and seemingly a severe case of dandruff thanks to the snow. They made a pile of coats, scarves, hats and gloves on the mat, then trooped into the warm kitchen.

"Hanging out with werewolves, apparently. Not that I would know, this is all second-hand information, though Padfoot here's the expert." Remus filled the group in, taking a seat next to his friend.

"What gives you that idea?"

"Harry," Remus glanced seriously at the boy. "I'm seriously doubting this man being made your godfather. No good will come of it, as if you haven't been in detention enough."

"It's not my fault," Harry muttered. "I don't _look _for trouble. It just seems to find me."

"Well you just had to go follow those spiders." Ron reminded him, setting thirteen bowls on the table. "We didn't learn anything, we knew all along Hagrid hadn't opened the Chamber."

"But we didn't know that until we went!" Harry protested, fetching the spoons. Remus and Sirius exchanged a knowing look.

"I could have told you Riddle was a lying prick." His friend insisted knowingly. "And without the risk of being eaten."

"Technically," Hermione said, not looking up form the thick volume she had returned to. "Acromantulae don't eat, they drink. They would have sucked your blood, not your flesh."

"Because that's so reassuring." Fred intoned wisely. "Next time someone sends a death threat my way, I'll ask if they intend on sucking my blood or eating my flesh."

"Nah," George said seriously. "I'll ask my next date, girls love those kind of pick-up lines."

"You would know." Said Ginny sarcastically, flipping her red hair over her shoulder as everyone managed to crowd into the magically expanded kitchen. "Seeing as you're such a womanizer."

"What was that, Ginevra?" Mrs. Weasley's tone was one not to be messed with as she served her youngest daughter.

"Nothing, mum."

Her mother shot her a look, then bustled away to save the soup from the stumbling Metamporphagus whose hair was currently a vibrant shade of fuchsia.

Throughout the lively meal, Remus kept a close eye on those around him, taking in what he wished would stay. For now, the world was at peace, but outside the warm walls of the Burrow, Remus knew darkness was brewing. He had talked to Dumbledore about the current status of the Death Eaters, but everything was still in a murky haze. Both the senior Weasleys also seemed to be watching the meal as Remus was, with the occasional _click_ing of Bill's camera.

It was, in Remus' opinion, a wonderful chance to escape the dreary worries of everyday life as he heard Sirius, Ron, Charlie and Harry discussing Quidditch; Tonks entertaining most everyone with her continuingly changing hair (and making her cousin insanely jealous that he could not do the same); Hermione and Bill dissecting a new bestseller featured in _Witch Weekly_ and Mrs. Weasley softly humming along to the quieted radio. Remus was just swallowing another bite of potato when everyone in the room froze. The wind whipped around the creaking house, but another sharp knock still seemed to echo around the room. In an instant, Sirius had placed his bowl of soup on the floor, waved Arthur toward the door, and took his place on the floor by Harry's feet as a large black dog.

Silverware that had been forgotten in the sudden panic fell to the table. Fred's mouth dropped open.

Arthur quickly unlatched the flimsy wooden door and held it open, but it wasn't until Arthur welcome the man in that everyone knew who had so suddenly appeared.

"Minister!" He shook the man's hand almost too heartily. "To what do I owe this pleasure?"

Indeed, Cornelius Fudge himself strode around Arthur Weasley with a professional smile, easily letting everyone know he wasn't there for merely a visit.

"I seem to have interrupted a party, please excuse me." He blustered, darting glances around the room, until his eyes rested briefly on the bowl of soup on the floor. One eyebrow raised, taking in the large number of people and the seeming waste of dinner.

"Dog food, Minister." Lupin stood, shaking the man's hand warmly. "Miserable creature followed me home today, and seeing how it's Christmas, I couldn't just leave him, could I?"

Under the table, his head just visible, Sirius thumped his tail against the floor.

"No, of course not." The plump fellow, though his eyes kept flicking to Harry, still watched the dog. A tense moment followed until he glanced again at Remus. "Isn't he a little, er, scraggily?"

The other man could barely keep from sighing in relief as he grinned. "Yes, but the poor fellow won't go anywhere near a water source. He's determined to stay filthy."

"I had a dog like that once," the Minister smiled warmly and patted the dog's head in what must have meant to be a kind gesture. To both Remus and Harry, it looked like Sirius would like to take a chunk out of the man's hand. "A Pekingese named Adrik. He had such long fur, it was almost as if he wanted to drive my wife and I insane."

"He has a wife?" Ginny murmured under her breath, just low enough for four of her older brothers to hear. Bill, Charlie, and Fred all attempted to keep straight faces, while George pulled a sad smile and asked what had happened to 'poor old Adrik?'

"He died, years ago."

Harry had to fake a coughing fit as Sirius 'wruffed' irritably.

"Ah, see?" Cornelius Fudge rocked back on his heels in delight as he misunderstood the large dog's gesture, then bent his knees so he could look right at Sirius. "He's quite an intelligent brute, seems to understand every word I'm saying!"

Harry finally managed to subdue his coughs as Hermione pounded him on the back, and he cleared his throat before addressing the Minister. "Sir," he began, trying for awkward. "He's a nice dog, and very smart, as you said, but we have reason to believe that he was abused and prone to bite when placed in uncomfortable situations."

Sirius shot him a grateful look as the man backed away, and yet now that Harry had spoken, he had eyes only for Harry. For a moment, they held each other's gaze until Harry leaned backward in his chair.

"I never was one for staring contests, sir. Can I help you or are you going to agree with everyone on the face of the earth and agree that yes, I have my mother's eyes?"

The Minister of Magic didn't seem to be addressed by fourteen year old boys that often, because for a moment, he just stood there, blinking.

"Ah, yes, well, I wasn't aware there would be a whole party here, hm? It was just Triwizard Tournament formalities, but I don't want to interrupt…"

"What kind of formalities?" Molly Weasley asked coldly, placing her hands on Harry's shoulders protectively while the black dog rose, taking a seated position beside Harry. The Minister stiffened, his eyes not leaving the dog. "Merlin knows he's had enough reporters for a lifetime."

"Is that so?" He asked nervously, still staring at the black dog who met his eyes, not blinking. "I just came to, well, Happy Christmas!" Before anyone could register the flush rising to his face, he turned on his heel and exited the household, leaving everyone in silence.

"Definitely a reporter, mate." Fred flicked a pea at Harry. "Did you see his expression? Priceless."

"He's disapparated." Arthur Weasley informed everyone from the window. "I agree with Fred, he surely wanted to arrange a meeting with you sometime."

"Fantastic." Harry muttered, viciously stabbing a slice of chicken. "I don't think he left fast enough."

"Yes, very gracious, Sirius." Remus took his seat with a snort. "It was obvious you understood English."

"Was not." The other man replied, changing, retrieving his untouched bowl on the floor and returning to his seat. "I even wagged my tail."

"Quite the charmer, Padfoot."

"You're just jealous, and thank you, Harry. I probably would have had to bite him if he kept patting me."

"You're an…?"

"Animagus." Sirius finished for Ginny, swallowing a chunk of bread. "Sorry for not mentioning it sooner, it was a safety precaution." He glanced almost guiltily at Arthur Weasley, but was rewarded with a nod.

"We understand. Quite the surprise, though. I thought it was illegal to be an unregistered Animagus?"

"Yep." Sirius nodded his consent and took another bite of potato. Remus rolled his eyes with a grin.

"James, Sirius and… Pettigrew both dedicated their learning to becoming animagi until in fifth year, between Sirius and James, they succeeded. James was a stag, Peter a rat, Sirius, well, you saw."

"'Pathetic creature.'" Sirius elbowed Remus. "Thanks."

"That's really advanced magic." Molly Weasley's eyes were wide as galleons, seeming to realize for the first time that the accused criminal she was sheltering for the Christmas holidays actually knew something.

"James helped." Remus raised his eyebrows but didn't comment at Sirius' rush of modesty. "Peter wasn't exactly the brains of the group. I'm still not sure how he managed to pass his exams…"

Black's eyes were distant as he absently pushed his food from one side of the plate to the other, clearly lost in memories long gone. The haunted look had returned to his handsome features, and in that instant, Remus knew exactly what he would be getting his old friend for Christmas. It would be a scrape, but he could do it. Just something to keep Sirius going through his long days on the run, something for Harry of which he could otherwise never have. Memories of good times to keep the bad ones at bay.


	2. Where's a frame when you need one?

**Chapter Two:**

**First and foremost, a huge thank-you to my first reviewer! Haha, so exciting! Ems 25, thanks for the advice and the review, I'm glad you liked it.**

**Just to clear things up, I know it's irritating when people change the books' storyline, but let's just say the Yule Ball is New Year's Eve instead of Christmas, for the sake of the story. This way, they can all retreat to the Weasley's for a while. I would have done fifth year, but I needed Remus to have his first Christmas with one of his best friends, so again, sorry for the inconvenience, but here's chapter two!**

Sirius woke with a start, his chest heaving heavily as he fought for breath.

_No, _he reminded himself with a shake of his head. _Only a dream, only a nightmare. Just another God-damned nightmare. _His head fell back against the pillow with a _whumph, _and for a moment he forgot why he was even sleeping with a pillow. Pillows, blankets, warmth, those were all dead and gone. They belonged to the Old Days, or as Sirius liked to refer to them as, the Golden Days. The days when he was looking over his shoulder at his friends, instead of making sure no Ministry officials were behind him.

"Sirius?"

Again, the man jumped, nearly falling off the couch as he scrambled to his feet. In the gloom of very early morning, it was only by Tonk's wandlight that he able to recognize his cousin.

"Morning," he grunted, casually placing his wand in his pocket. "What time is it?"

"'Round six, I'd reckon. I just got a call from the Ministry, some trouble with the Macnair's. Whoo hoo." Tonks waved her hands in mock excitement, accidentally hitting the Weasley Grandfather Clock and knocking it into Sirius.

"Sorry! Sorry! I didn't mean to, stupid clock was in the way-"

"It's fine, Nymphie." Sirius smirked, trying to brush away the fact that his distinctly shorter cousin had to help him push the old clock to it's original place. Tonks shot him a look.

"Nymphie?"

The man shrugged, turning his back to walk casually around the room. "Well, 'Nymphadora' is kind of a mouthful, and everyone else calls you 'Tonks.'"

"What's wrong with 'Tonks?'"

Sirius rolled his eyes when he could be sure that she couldn't see. Girls. Always so touchy about what you called them.

"Nothing, but 'Nymphie' is easier to remember, and I think it adds character. You've got two names now, names add personality."

Sirius glanced back at the witch, fully prepared to whip out his wand and set up a shield between himself and the newly dubbed 'Nymphie,' but was pleasantly surprised to see her smiling.

"No!" She exclaimed, clapping her hands together. "I like it-strangely enough-but only you can call me that. Permission to hex anyone else?"

Sirius barked a laugh, nodding, even as Tonks glanced at her watch and swore quietly. She nodded to the man, proceeded to trip over the carpeting, and hurried out the door.

"Bye, Nymphie!" Sirius waved, just as the witch apparated, and if he hadn't been after first meeting his cousin at dinner the night before, was incredibly relieved that the whole of his family wasn't crazy. It was, all in all, a reassuring thought.

*******

"Happy Christmas, Padfoot!"

Sirius did not seem to be having the best of mornings when he had been dreaming of sleeping in, and he nearly fell off the couch all over again on his quest for his wand and to hex the closest person who was probably trying to throw him in jail-

"Remus." He collapsed back on the couch with a heavy sigh. "Don't _do _that, you sentimental old fool." In truth, the grown man was no different from the patchy teen who had thrown textbooks at his friend's heads until they had woken up in Christmas's past. Maybe a little ragged, tonight was the full moon, but definitely the same kid.

"I take that as a compliment." The werewolf grinned, refusing to let Sirius dampen his mood. "You know where Tonks-"

"Nymphie's away on Ministry business."

Remus didn't comment on the new name, remembering with a sad smile Sirius' talent for interesting nicknames.

"By the way, don't call her that." He stretched, looking distinctly dog-like for a moment as he shook his head to rid himself of his weariness. "I'm the only one with permission. Is everyone else…?"

"Everyone but Bill, but I think Ginny was planning on setting off a Sneakoscope in his room…" Remus grinned, not even noticing how Sirius and he seemed to finish each other's sentences. Then, both men pricked their extra-keen ears as a high pitched keen seemed to echo around the house, followed by laughter and rather loud cursing. There was a clatter from the kitchen, in which both the friends stifled laughter, and a sudden shout from Mrs. Weasley that could undoubtedly be heard by the muggles across the fields.

"_William Henry Weasley!" _She shrieked, oblivious to Remus as he took a seat at the table and Sirius as he hovered, uncomfortable, in the doorway. _"Does it not occur to you that there are impressionable children in this household? _Your _sister _is thirteen years old and should not be subjected to such language! I heard that, Ronald, you just shut your mouth and be glad you have guests so I can't shut it for you!"

Harry and Hermione both attempted to pull sweatshirts over their heads to hide their laughter as Ron's ears turned pink and Bill stamped into the kitchen with Ginny in a headlock. Their mother seemed completely oblivious to everyone else's amusement and nearly ripped her daughter in half trying to release her from her older brother.

"Really," she huffed, once the pair was seated at the table. "I reckon Sirius would rather be outside than with this Azkaban comparison."

Sirius glanced out the window, where the wind was still blowing fiercely, whipping the snow around the Burrow in a miniature tornado of sorts. He shrugged, grinning.

"Nah, it's too cold out there. Besides, this is nothing. No death threats before dinner? 'Family time' must have lost it's meaning while I've been away. Whatever happened to insulting filthy blood traitors and lighting worship candles for Voldemort?" Then, as an after thought at Mrs. Weasley's expression, the only one not amused, "I was kidding about the worship candles. My mother reserved those for herself."

"Or baby Regulus." Remus reminded him lightly, gesturing to the empty chair next to Harry.

"Wait-you're serious?" Hermione's eyes bugged out as she imagined the heinous event that family dinners must have been.

"Yes. Sirius. Sirius Black."

"That was a really bad joke."

Sirius glanced at Fred, eyes alight with amusement. "I'm allowed bad jokes-it's my name."

"Lucky." George muttered mutinously. "My name is so boring, all I can do is pretend to be that actor George Clooney or whatever. I think we should form a club for bad jokes about names. Anyway, you were telling the truth about your dinners?"

Sirius nodded, after high fiving George across the table. "Well," he began. "Our dinners would usually start with mother dearest yelling up the stairs, for me to come down out of the 'dark, blood traitor abyss.' We would then proceed to get into a fight, usually involving wands and choice swear words, on the steps leading up to my dark, blood traitor abyss. Eventually, our nut job house elf, Kreacher, would serve us, and sneeze in my plate for his 'dear mistress. Poor, poor mistress, suffering with the misfortune of her despicable son.'" Sirius imitated a high, wheezing voice, sounding distinctively like a basilisk with a head cold.

"Then, Regulus will announce all the wonderful things the Death Eaters have been up to, even before he was inducted. The kid was a maniac, his wallpaper was literally clippings about Death Eaters and such… one time he asked me if I would help him convince our mother to let him get a tattoo of the Dark Mark on his back-"

"How thick can you get?" Bill muttered, shaking his head as he listened in. "What if he was accused? He would have been sent straight to Azkaban."

Sirius glanced at him over a piece of toast. "He didn't need the tattoo," he reminded the Gringotts wizard. "He, not to mention everyone in my direct family and most of my indirect family was in Slytherin, minus myself." Sirius began ticking off his fingers. "His room, the tendency to refer to Volde-sorry, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named as 'the Dark Lord,' and the rest of my family's infatuation with him was enough proof to be set on trial. Then, of course, he eventually got the real mark, and those aren't exactly given away, are they?"

"And I thought _I _had crazy relatives." Harry grinned at his godfather, who laughed quietly in return. Of course, judging from what he had heard about the Black family tree, he could almost say that he preferred the Dursleys, which seemed a prediction appropriate of Professor Trelawney.

Breakfast was a hurried affair, despite the overall comfort it provided for everyone. Harry tried to ignore the over concerned looks he continued to receive from the elder Weasleys, and instead looked at his plate as Charlie gave Sirius and Remus a blow-by-blow account of the First Task. Finally, though, just as they got to the part about the egg, Hermione insisted that she was tired of the Triwizard Tournament and that they 'give it all a rest already!' Which was completely fine with Harry, already his stomach had begun to churn with the thought of the Second Task.

After the ceremonious unwrapping of the presents, in which Harry swore quietly and bolted upstairs to the attic to snatch Hedwig and a lumpy package wrapped in the most absurd wrapping paper anyone in the room had ever seen ("It's for Dobby." Harry explained. "I forgot to give this to him before we left.") Arthur Weasley confessed rather guiltily to the fact that he actually had to work. He shook Sirius' hand, expressing pleasure at finally meeting him after hearing so much, to which Sirius barked a laugh. At that, the older Weasley sons decided that if they were to stay on vacation, they should at least get a bit of work done, so they retreated to Percy's room for Bill to work on a code he had found in Egpyt and Charlie to sign some forms for the Department for the Regulation and Contol of Magical Creatures.

"Hermione?" Ginny looked up from a new leather-bound book, already on chapter three. The book, a collection of Muggle fairy tales that she had pounced on Hermione for, had surprised nearly everyone. Ginny had a strange adoration for the sometimes-twisted plots Muggles came up with, and Hermione had nearly purred after seeing how much she loved the book. Now, though, the fourth year's smile dimmed as she Ginny looked up at her with puppy eyes.

"Yes?" She asked warily, checking quickly to see if her wand was in it's usual place in her pocket.

"I want to teach you how to ride a broom."

"That'll be the day." Ron sniggered. "The day Hermione rides a broom."

"That was uncalled for." She snapped, threatening him with her new encyclopedia on plant life and their medical uses, courtesy of Harry. Wisely, he raised his hands in surrender and backed away.

"Should I be concerned?" Sirius muttered to Harry, examining a brightly colored box given to him by the twins. "Judging how they came across the map in first year… we didn't even complete that until third!"

"Yes."

"Should I feed one to Remus?"

Harry hesitated, glancing at his former professor and back at his godfather. He had to remind himself that he wasn't the one giving Lupin a canary cream, that it would be his fellow partner in crime.

Therefore, he felt only a little shame in answering "yes."

"Remus, old fellow!" Sirius grinned jumping up from the couch to his friend at the window. "Try one of these-they're brilliant!"

Harry, George and Fred watched in barely contained eagerness as their old professor eyed Sirius warily and sniffed the cream.

"I'm worried this will be a source of amusement." He intoned dryly, placing it back in Sirius' palm. "But thank you for your concern."

Sirius, Harry, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, and the twins found, was much better at the puppy-dog-pleading look then Ginny. Lupin sighed heavily, took the cream back, glared at Sirius, but choked down the treat.

Five minutes later, Sirius and Remus still found the joke amusing, even if Molly Weasley stormed in and asked them with a tone as cold as the snow to clean up the feathers.

"I never thought I'd say this," she muttered, glancing contemptuously out the window that Remus had been standing by only moments before. "But I wish it would stop snowing, you could all go kill each other outside. At least the owls can still fly, _Daily Prophet's _on the coffee table if any of you are interested."

"Hm," George shoved the torn paper aside to find the _Prophet _buried deep. He proceeded to flip it open, searching intently through the pages. "Ah," he sighed heavily. "Poor Perc. Apparently people don't care that much about melting cauldron bottoms, he swore it would be in the Christmas addition. Oh-" the joking smile vanished, replaced by an unusual frown and a muttered word that would have given him his own cell in Azkaban had it been his mother's choice.

"What is it?" Lupin had paled even further, thanks to George's words and the full moon being that night. "Death Eaters again? Maybe the Quidditch World Cup-"

"It has something to do with Harry." Ginny was peering over George's shoulder, unnoticed until she spoke.

Harry sighed heavily, only bothering to bang his head once on the coffee table. "It's Skeeter, isn't it?"

"No." George answered immediately, trying to keep it out of Harry's reach, but Ginny snatched the paper with surprising skill, reminding Harry of a Seeker, folded it into a paper airplane, and sailed it over to Harry. After spending a few moments scanning the article, he glanced at Hermione, who had been diligently editing some mistakes in a Potions essay of Ginny's.

"You all sure you want to stay here while I'm in here? Apparently I'm a hopeless case refusing to be admitted to Saint Mungo's for over-egotistic tendencies, an inability to remember details like when I submitted my name to the Goblet of Fire, and 'severe addling to brain tissue.' Can I borrow that quill, Hermione?"

"We always knew your brain tissue was addled." Ron snorted. "We didn't need her to tell us that."

"Why?" But Hermione handed it over, along with a jar of ink, and Harry spread the large article out across the floor. He took the sheet with a winking Rita Skeeter, flashing her golden teeth for the camera, dipped Hermione's quill in the ink, and began to draw.

"What on earth are you doing?" She asked sharply as she watched him ink out parts of the picture. "You better not be wasting-"

"I'm being childish and drawing on the old cow's face. Any suggestions?"

"Off-center nose." Ron piped up at once, hurrying over to watch Harry.

"Medusa hair, with snakes." Suggested Hermione eagerly.

"Double chin." Added Sirius. "Greasy hair and fangs."

"Make her toothless, except for the two fangs." Ginny pointed at her overexposed teeth. "And give her a dunce cap."

"Claws for fingernails." Fred made sure Harry inked them in with a grin. "I find them quite a turn off, don't you?"

"Too much makeup."

"I don't know how to draw makeup, Fred." Harry glanced at him. "Surprising, I know…"

"Judging by this you don't know how to draw decent claws either." Ginny nudged him, grabbing the quill. "Shove over."

"Bat wings." Harry reminded her, looking over her shoulder. "With big ugly tears, since she would hate being a half breed or something."

"And antennae!"

They all turned to look at the werewolf, who had, up until then, been silent.

"What?" He asked self-consciously. "You can hardly expect her to be some sort of half-bug creature without antennae and enormous eyes, and if you're doing that you might as well put feelers on her legs."

"I always knew you should have been in Ravenclaw." Sirius rolled his eyes. "Only you would remember bug anatomy while vandalizing dear old Rita."

Ten minutes later, when Hermione had jinxed the drawing to look disturbingly realistic, Harry leaned back in satisfaction.

"I dub her 'The Reporter Who Suffered at the Hands of Her Readers and had to Spend the Rest of Her Life in…'"

"'The Reporter Who Suffered at the Hands of Her Readers and had to Spend the Rest of Her Life in an Italian Restaurant Scaring Customers With Her Beetle-like Tendencies.'" Hermione finished proudly. "A bit longer than 'The Boy Who Lived' which I think is what you were going for, Harry, but we could call her RWSHHRSRHLIRSCWHBT. Maybe we could even make-"

"No badges!" Harry and Ron announced immediately, earning a glare.

"I was going to say nametags. You know, the ones that say 'Hello, my name is…'"

"I wrote it down under the photo." Ginny grinned, holding it up for all eight of them to admire their handiwork. "I think we need a frame."


End file.
